And another one. I really like the sentiments behind this. I think the idea behind this comes from a masking fiction I've read, Weaver's Tales, I think.

Transcript:

Oh crap, what I have gotten myself into?

I pace around the living room frantically. It’s taking too long already, why hasn’t he come out? It’s like I’m waiting for a women to powder her nose.

Women? Wait, wait, wait, he’s not a women. He’s a he! Not a women. Don’t think too much about it, Jason. Cool down. All you need to do, is to help him come in terms with himself, like a good friend. Yeah, that’s it.

“Jason?” Comes a breathy feminine voice, “I-I’m ready.”

I gulp, turn, look and instantly regret my decision to turn for standing in front of me is not my good friend, Lucian but a woman who call herself Catherine. “So, how do I look?”

Black,shimmering dresses, paired with black sheer hosiery and black pumps, my friend flashes a smile as if she- he’s posing. Blonde hair, and blue eyed contacts, very different from the first time I saw him in drags. His figure, damn, how did he mask it? Was it the black? Or did he wear something to give him those breasts and hip?

Fuck. It’s happening again. When Lucian showed me his alter ego, I was blown away at how convincing he looked; the make-up, those kissable lips and the cute nose. I’ve always known Lucien is small and boyish looking but this, this is too much. And now, just like before, I couldn’t take my eyes of her, I mean, him. God damn it.

“Jason, hello?” the breathy voice again. How the hell did he do it? The voice? He must have been training for hours. Probably days. Maybe even months? Years? Fuck, I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even want to know.

“Jason, are you alright?” She, he took a step closer. I can even smell the perfume, very feminine, very nice. My goodness, it’s getting harder to think of her as a him. Wild thoughts came into my mind, what is she like under that dress? Is he wearing tights, stockings with garter belts, what about lingerie? Is he wearing that too under it? How sexy is it?

“I’m alright, Lucien. God help me, you never fail to freak me out,”

Lucien took a step back, head sunken and shoulders withdrawn. Ah, shit. “I mean, you never fail to amaze me, Lucien,”

“Catherine. Please call me Catherine.”

Oh, I give up. Just go with the flow, Jason. 10 years of friendship is not worth breaking over something like this.

“Fine then, Catherine. Or should I say, Cathy?”

Upon hearing this, Catherine lightens up and flashes an innocent smile (Even the dentures are different), she looks like a normal girl who’s dressed up for a date. Now that I’ve seen her like this, there’s no way I could refuse her request her first time night’s out, right?

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Putting my hands over her shoulder, I sighed mentally. Whatever it is, Catherine is Lucien, Lucien’s a good friend, therefore, Catherine is a good friend and I can’t ignore a good friend’s bidding.